#STARTER. ( alexander petrakis. )

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       @goxinsane  liked for a one liner from alexander petrakis.

            “But I'm just content with time well spent.”

[onlycertainty]

@mysticandskepticmuses​ wanted a starter, I chose Alexander Petrakis

     “You often find yer’self among the company of pirates?” The question comes as he settles his elbow along the surface of the bar. No sooner did he speak did he turn to close his hands along the tankard and drag it closer to himself. Brows perk with his own inquiry before he turn his eye away and takes a long drink of his ale, then sighs with the low thunk of the cup along the bar. It was not a uncommon thing for newcomers to show up along the shore of Nassau, but now that they were here within the Old Avery and Jack was looking for men for his crew. James can’t help but to be a bit curious if he was intending to ask to come on board.

        “Or do ye often stumble in their city with naught but yer wits about ye?”

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   @notthescarsyoucansee liked for a one liner from alexander petrakis.

   “ I need you tonight.  'Cause I'm not sleeping “

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    @panamastayed liked for a short starter from alexander

     “I appreciate you making the necessary arrangements for me to meet you after hours, -- I so rarely have the opportunity to survey the potential purchases first hand, much less have the chance to meet those that procured them in person.   My work schedule is -- hectic, to say the least,” Alexander spoke, tugging the gloves from his hands and tucking them into his outer jacket before shrugging it off, tucking it beside him as he offered a hand out towards the explorer.  “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Kane.”

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       @rubiesintherough - cassie gets a bday thing from alexander even though i don’t think they’ve actually interacted yet but humor me or something.

     “If you won’t let me take you out, then you will have to allow me to order something in for the occasion,” Alexander insisted.  He would have liked to make a true evening of it -- close the bar, or hire someone else to watch it for the evening, pamper her with a massage, mani-pedi, hair cut, a nice dress, for a proper night on the town, a show, a quiet dinner on a veranda overlooking something spectacular.  Something truly memorable... But it was all too soon, too new, and while he could have used his abilities to coerce her, he wanted the time she spent with him to be of her own choosing.  And until he loosed the death grip her ‘father’ held over her, that meant the bar was part and parcel.  “There’s a lovely Italian cafe that I could order us a meal from, with a delicious tiramasu to follow, hm?”

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     @rubiesintherough gets a random starter from alexander for fayne.

     “I knew another dance years ... many years ago, now.   She danced like the furies, and drank like a fish --  is that something all dancers have in common, or only the exceptional ones?”  Dark eyes gleamed with amusement as he propped his weight easily onto the bar on an elbow, a nod to the bartender who set a fresh gin and tonic in front of him.   “Two ... actually, make it four shots, of what the lady is having.  I think I’ll join her.” 

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  @crowleyisms liked for a short starter from alexander.

         “The glasses are an interesting touch,” the vampire remarked, easing himself into the seat across from the demon, a smile quirking up the corners of his mouth, one arm draping languidly across the empty chair beside him, the other curled idly around a glass of red wine, mostly untouched, at least thus far.  It was somewhat lackluster to be fair, and didn’t quite seem worth the effort, but blending in did tend to be a necessity.  Well.  For some of them, at least.  “Does no one ever ask about them, try to make you take them off?”

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        @rubiesintherough liked for a ....’short’ starter from alexander

It was the scent of her blood that greeted him when he stirred from his daylight slumber, the scent of it fresh and heady, a scent that he could not place -- that, in and of itself would have been enough to hasten his efforts to find her; the fact that copious amounts of it must have spilled to reach within the confines of his chamber was the only other impetus required.  Whomever, whatever she was, he knew she had been badly injured - proven, by the dark stain that spilled and soaked into the grains of sand, the lap of water against her unconscious form stealing even more with each pull and ebb of the tides.  The gashes were deep across her shoulder, her chest and side, scratches and bruises adorning what other flesh was visible outside of her tattered clothes, her form thin and full of sharp edges and soft hollows.   

The wings lay crushed beneath her, where she’d dropped, cloyed with blood and sand and brambles.  

It had been three nights since he’d wrapped her wounds with strips made from his shirt, hoisting her up carefully and whisking her back to his chateau along the precipice nearly impossible for humankind to scale, miles and miles from anything that might pass for civilization.  It was tender, careful work, work that despite his ability for power and destruction, he was quite capable of, disrobing her, cleaning her wounds, sewing the rent flesh together, bathing her flesh, washing and brushing her hair, all while she slept a heavy sleep induced by a mild sedative, administered at intervals between sips carefully offered of a broth infused with herbs, crushed antibiotics and, to ensure that she did not pass into the realm of the dead, a few drops of his blood.  Just enough to keep her alive, to keep her breathing, to keep her heart beating.   

Her color had returned, slowly, the wounds mending, slower than he would have liked, but quickly enough that he saw no reason to continue to keep her sedated out of fear she might tear her stitches or attempt to escape out of panic and do more harm than she had started with.   She was laid out on the large four poster bed in one of the master suites, the shutters open, the wall length windows cracked to allow a fresh breeze.   He had dressed her in simple wraps, over which he had arranged a toga -  convenient to accommodate both her injuries and her wings, and close, in part, to what she had been wearing when he found her.  Her things had been bundled, set on the bedside table beside her, upon which also rested a bowl of fresh, cool water and a sponge, as well as a tray of soup, soft bread and butter, ice water and apple juice, as well as a small bouquet of freshly trimmed crocus tied with a white ribbon and set at the top of the tray.  

He waited, patiently, as small signs of life and consciousness returned - the randomized pattern of breathing and heartbeat, the increased movements of her eyes behind closed eyelids, the twitch of a finger.   He himself was dressed simply enough, dark slacks and a white button up, sleeves rolled to his forearms, feet bare against the floor, seated in an armchair close enough to the bed that he would be seen, but not close enough to be, he hoped, deemed an immediate threat.  He leaned forward, slightly, as she began to stir, a hand touching lightly against hers, warmer than his own, his voice low and quiet in the room.  “Easy - not too quickly, or you risk tearing your stitches, mikros.  My name is Alexander, and you are safe, and welcome in my home for as long as you wish to stay.”

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     @wclfgirl liked for a short starter from alexander.

              Now there was a scent that he didn’t catch every day .... or ever, to be more exact, which was something of a rarity in and of itself.   Dark eyes tilted up to the woman approaching the bar, a subtle breath drawn in through his nostrils as he tried to pinpoint the subtleties.   A glass raised to his lips, a sip of the brandy taken, before the glass clinked lightly to the coaster on the bar in front of him.   “I’ll have another, and -- whatever the lady would like, on me,” he spoke, loud enough to be heard by both the bartender and the chestnut haired figure.

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   @goxinsane liked for a short starter from alexander.

          “The boys will be fine -- they know to call you or me if there’s any trouble, they’ve got money to order in and you’ve more than earned a night out.  Please, Leona -- let me do this for you,” Alexander tugged lightly against her elbow, head tilting towards the limo waiting at the curb, door open.  “You take care of everyone else.  Let me take care of you, for once.”

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  @sempitcrnalis liked for a starter from alexander.

      The sounds of his footsteps echoed in a way that if he had been more given to unease, he might have described as eerily as he stepped through from the hallway into the morgue itself, sharp toed Italian loafers pressed steadily to the linoleum.   The silence was, in and of itself, not unexpected, though the sharp smell of antiseptic and chemicals compelled the remnant sounds of machines, beeping and clicking and whirring, the mechanical and electronic chirps that went hand in hand with the modern hospital.  Here, there was none of that, only the occasional clatter of metal against metal, the thudding of a door closing, and a cool breeze that circulated the air throughout the building, attempting but not quite succeeding at keeping the bitter undertone of death from clinging to the walls and surfaces.   

     He paused a few steps into the room, clearing his throat in an unnecessary measure to ensure he had the attention of the only other person visible in the room.   “I wish to offer my apologies for my tardiness -- I was meant to be here an hour earlier, to make an identification and sign paperwork for Samuel Radford?  My flight was delayed, I’m afraid it was inevitable.  I do hope I haven’t kept you.”

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   @fromgallowsandgraves liked for a one liner from alexander petrakis.

               “Should have gone all the way, God damn it.”